A Billionaire's Redemption(28)

A commotion at the front door around ten o’clock interrupted her concentration as she sorted the candidates into possible-yes, undecided and definite-no piles. One of the bodyguards stuck his head into the room. “Guy at the door named Gabe Dawson. Says he’s your boyfriend. Wants to see you.”

Tell him I’m not available.”

Roger, ma’am.” The guy backed out and closed the door behind him.

Wow. That had been easy. She should keep a couple of giant bouncer types around more often to get rid of people she didn’t want to deal with.

It didn’t take long for her cell phone to ring. She didn’t even bother looking at it. She knew who was calling. Gabe. The phone even sounded angry as it rang. She let his call go to voice mail before she reluctantly listened to what he had to say.

Seriously, Willa? You’re going to hide behind a bunch of thugs? What the hell did I do to you? I thought we had something great going. But I guess I was wrong.” The earlier worry was gone from his voice, replaced by cold fury.

Remorse speared through her. Had she overreacted this morning? Had he merely spoken thoughtlessly in his worry for his ex-wife? It wasn’t a bad thing that he still cared about Melinda’s safety, was it? Maybe all it meant was that he was a decent man who would worry about anyone in the position Melinda was in. For all Willa knew, Gabe was the closest thing to family Melinda had.

* * *

Okay, she felt bad now for siccing the bodyguards on Gabe. But the fact remained, he wasn’t a marrying kind of man and never would be. Sleeping with him had been great. Epic, in fact. But at the end of the day, she wanted more. And more was something Gabe Dawson couldn’t and wouldn’t give her.





Chapter 12

Willa narrowed her choices for possible candidates to endorse down to two men. But without meeting them and personally gauging their ethics and morals, she wasn’t willing to throw the powerful Merris name behind either man. Those cynical letters on her father’s computer fresh in her mind, she was determined not to send a business-as-usual politician to Washington if she could help it.

She had to admit that having a congressional staff was handy. Amber assured her it would be no problem to set up meetings with the two candidates. In fact, the girl gently assured Willa both men would leap at the chance to speak with her. She was Senator Merris now. She kept forgetting.

The first candidate, a man named Kevin Mc

Conahhay, stopped by the mansion on his way to a campaign appearance in Denton. She winced as his garishly painted campaign bus pulled up in front of the Merris mansion. People were going to assume she’d already endorsed the guy. His politics were actually fairly close to her father’s, although McConahhay was spending more time talking about himself than any actual issues.

From the moment he rounded the corner into the library, she didn’t like the guy. It didn’t help matters that his first words were a booming, “So here’s the little lady keeping my seat in Washington warm for me.”

He was a good ol’ boy all the way. Not that all good ol’ boys were all bad. But this one left a decidedly sour taste in her mouth. He just assumed that, as the candidate her father’s party had hastily chosen to replace John Merris, her endorsement was in the bag. He talked so much about himself and his extensive connections to the oil industry that he barely allowed her to get a word in edgewise. No question about it, he would operate in Washington the exact same way her father had—playing lobbyists off against each other, trading favors under the table and getting as rich as possible while in office.

The second candidate, a man named Thomas Montoya, was in Dallas campaigning, and rightfully surprised that the daughter of his political rival was calling him. He immediately invited her to attend a fund-raising dinner he was having tonight. Wary of her presence being construed as an endorsement, she only agreed to meet him for coffee before the meal. But the fact that he didn’t once refer to her as a little lady went into the definite plus column for him.

She dressed in the power suit the folks at Nieman Marcus had fixed her up with, and two of the security men drove her down to Dallas in a big black SUV that she had no doubt was armored and bulletproof. It would have been cool if she didn’t actually need the protection.

Montoya’s fund-raiser was in a big hotel downtown. Her ride pulled up at the loading dock out back, and one of the guards whisked her into a thoroughly unglamorous service elevator for the ride to the twentieth floor where Montoya was apparently waiting for her.

She stepped into a generic hotel suite, where Montoya, and a lovely but quiet woman who turned out to be his wife, stood and introduced themselves. Willa was struck by how the wife immediately faded into the woodwork, serving coffee with a smile, murmuring a few pleasantries and then moving to the far end of the room.

A few weeks ago, that had been her. Willa shuddered in recollection at how it had felt to have people constantly looking right through her as if she wasn’t there. She made a point of looking the wife in the eye and speaking directly to her. The wife smiled with a gratitude that broke Willa’s heart. It was a hard life being the significant other of a politician.

She turned her attention to Montoya. He was quiet and thoughtful, clearly versed in the issues and highly intelligent. But the clincher for her was his response when she commented, “I have to say, my fear with you is that the special-interest groups will eat you alive when you get to Washington.”

Quiet steel entered Montoya’s voice and his eyes flashed with determination. “Unless we send people to Washington who are willing to say no to the same old way of doing business, who are willing to vote against lining their own pockets, who are willing not to be re-elected, how will we ever fix the problem?”

She laughed ruefully. “You’re singing to the choir, Tom. So you’re truly willing to be a one-term senator?”

I fully expect to be a one-termer. I have a successful law practice back here in Texas, and frankly, it’s going to be a real inconvenience to my firm and my family for me to spend six years in Washington.”

Well, Tom, you’ve got my endorsement. How would your campaign manager like me to announce it?”

Montoya stared at her in shock. “But I was running against your father.”

And doing a fine job of it, too. He was scared stiff you were going to beat him.” She shrugged. “I happen to agree with you. And I happen to believe in acting according to my conscience, not my father’s.”

I’m honored to get your nod.” He added wryly, “You’re a brave woman. I wouldn’t want to face the flak you’re going to take for abandoning your father’s party.”

Now that he mentioned it, she supposed there would be hell to pay for switching sides, particularly at the last minute like this. Good thing she had that team of bruisers to protect her.

The campaign manager was jubilant, and suggested that Willa stay for the fund-raiser and announce her endorsement there. It made sense. The press would be there in force, as would many prominent and wealthy supporters of Montoya’s.

Willa made a point of chatting with Mrs. Montoya, who turned out to be a highly educated intellectual in her own right, while they waited in the wings for the fund-raiser to begin, and the crowd to be whipped into a proper frenzy before Tom Montoya was introduced. Willa knew the drill well and ignored the roar of the crowd. Tom went out and the screams and chants grew deafening.

Then it was her turn to be introduced. The crowd went wild when she announced her endorsement. She sat down at the head table in the place of honor hastily arranged for her, and looked out across the room at a sea of dark, unrecognizable silhouettes. She couldn’t see a thing with all the spotlights pointed at her. The meal passed in a fog.

Circulating in the crowd afterward was surreal. She was used to being the one who listened respectfully and nodded politely while everyone else talked, but tonight, people wanted to hear what she had to say. The main question was why the party switch? She eventually got her explanation down by rote and recited it pretty much automatically.

But then a voice came out of the sea of faces that shocked her into stillness.

Tell me, Senator. Why did you feel obliged to wreck my life and ruin my reputation with your groundless accusations?”

She whipped around to face James Ward. His nostrils flared sharply as if he was incensed that she would dare to face him. A few days ago, she might have wilted and slunk away from him, but no more. She was done being the eternal wallflower and always backing down.

What are you doing here?” she demanded.

Supporting Tom Montoya’s campaign.”

He leaned in close to her and she flinched in spite of herself as his pupils expanded until his eyes were entirely black. He muttered menacingly, “You’d better drop those stupid charges. You’re the one who looks crazy, not me.”

She looked crazy? He was the one who had turned into a maniac and attacked her!

His gaze raked up and down her scornfully, and his voice dropped into an entirely creepy whisper. “Still playing the vestal virgin. We both know what a lie that is, don’t we? Uppity bitch. Pretending to be better than everyone else...”